


Fire

by TheSushiMonster



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 06:29:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSushiMonster/pseuds/TheSushiMonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They really needed to pass their field training." FitzSimmons are in trouble. Again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr 1/6 based on a headcanon from tumblr user aidnturner.

They really needed to pass their field training.

For probably the seventh time in the past several months, Simmons found herself staring death in the face, Fitz's hand wrapped around her wrist the only anchor to reality and the gravity of the situation. Simmons swallowed when the large man stepped towards them, his toothy grin revealing yellowed teeth that clashed violently with his well-kept suit.

"Seems S.H.I.E.L.D. can't quite keep track of their own," he said, twirling the knife in his hand. Simmons felt Fitz's arm stiffen beside her and she could imagine that he was grinding his teeth in an effort to keep his mouth under control. "Just my luck."

Simmons knew Fitz was eyeing the weapon nervously, eyes flickering between their attackers' face and hands. So she allowed herself a moment to take in a deep breath and  _look_  – she scanned the room like May taught her, calculating distances and trajectories and angles between tables and chairs and the window and the door –

"So, which one of you will prove to be more talkative?" The man raised an eyebrow, his smirk sending shivers down Simmons' spine. But even as his steps drew closer to them, Fitz seemed to meld even closer to  _her,_  if that was even possible. The knife traced a line between the two of them and Simmons squeezed Fitz's hand. "Maybe the girl?"

"Don't you dare – " said Fitz, one foot sliding in front of hers. Simmons pulled him back immediately.

"So the boy then," said their attacker, his smirk twisting into a smug beam. "Excellent."

And while Fitz wrenched his hand out of hers to meet the man, Simmons let the calculations fall into place – a step there, a kick there, a shout to Fitz –

The knife sat inches from Fitz's face when Simmons narrowed her eyes and  _kicked_.

The metal chair slipped and knocked into the man's legs, and in the moment of distraction, Simmons wrangled the knife out of the man's hands – she thought she felt the sting of a cut, but she was used to blood – and threw it as far away as possible. Without thinking about her position or the fact that the man was probably as tall as Ward, Simmons shoved; their attackers head slammed against the corner of a desk, a trickle of blood running down the back of his neck.

"What the hell – " said Fitz, his jaw slack and eyes wide.

Simmons shrugged, not willing to question her luck; she also ignored the nagging voice in her head screaming that she hadn't realized the desk was  _that_ close. "Come on, we need to get out of here." She grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the hallway, letting him take in the details of the room – including the unconscious body – because she'd rather not do so.

In the empty hallway, with her heart threatening to explode, Simmons finally let out a deep breath as she released Fitz. Her fingers tingled and her head spun, but the tiny smile dancing on her lips faded when Fitz grabbed her hand again and she finally glanced over at him.

His eyes were hard, but they glowed with a tinge of warmth; they were  _intense_ , burning through her, and Simmons licked her lips as she struggled to swallow. But then before she could even blink, Fitz was kissing her.

His hands started in her hair and on her back, but one traveled down her cheek and the other gripped her tighter, pulling her in closer. Simmons let her hands slide up his chest, the taste of cinnamon and brown sugar and rust lingering on her tongue even as Fitz's teeth graze her lips. He was so  _warm_  and the fire still running through her veins seemed to transfer to him too; her breath pooled in their locked embrace and it's a moment later when she pulled back.

"What – "

"I – uh – thought we were trying new things," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "So might as well, right?"

And Simmons laughed.


End file.
